Silence Is The Enemy
by Leon Sage
Summary: Dad's been on a hunt for a few weeks, Sam. And honestly, I don't even know what you're doing, I don't know who you're with. Do you even think of me?
1. Chapter 1

"Oh, come ON" Dean said and sighed, turning over in his bed. He punched his pillow once and let his head fall down onto it. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. But it was too damn _quiet_. He had grown used to Sam's soft snoring, or his father poring over books late into the night that he just couldn't go to sleep without either, but he missed Sam's quiet snoring the most.

Dean hadn't heard from John in weeks and he guessed that something was up. Even though his father had always taught them that he was the lone wolf, he wasn't crazy enough to not call for help if he needed it.

He turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling of the motel room. The cars passing outside threw everything into a sharp relief and shadows played all around the room. Dean knew he was safe, having had put thick salt lines on all the windows and doors, but it didn't stop him from keeping his custom handguns and a flask of holy water under his mattress.

Another car passed by and for a moment, he taught he heard the lock turning at the front door. He sat up, hopeful, but nothing happened. Must have been the wind.

Dean sighed again and got out of bed, rubbing his eyes and turning on a small light at the dining table that was serving as his gun cleaning area. He grabbed a bottle of beer and sat in one of the chairs at the table. He looked across the table at the other empty chair. He thought of Sam, what he would be doing, how he was, whether he missed Dean.

Sighing and looking down, he took a long drink of beer.

After a few minutes, he couldn't stand it anymore, he got up, put on a pair of jeans, grabbed his jacket and exited the room. One he got out, he made his way to the Impala and leaned against the hood of the car, looking up at the Moon. It was a clear night and the moon was a perfect circle, bathing the night in a soft glow. He looked up at the Moon and put his hands into his jacket pockets. "Sammy…" he said quietly.

A thousand and who-the-hell-really-cares miles away, Sam lay in bed, Jessica hugging his waist. He knew she was asleep and he knew that he wasn't going to sleep any time soon. It was just too _quiet._

He got out of bed, sliding easily out of Jess' grasp. He padded down the hallway of his apartment and went into the kitchen. He took out a bottle of orange juice and went to stand by the dining table. Taking a sip of the juice, he looked at the two chairs and felt a hollow feeling in his chest.

Sam turned away from the table, trying to make the feeling go away, but it just got worse as he looked around his apartment. New, fully furnished, he had everything he ever wanted, so why did he feel like he had lost the most important thing in the world?

Looking down, he went to one of the bay windows and leaned on the glass, pressing his forehead to the glass and closing his eyes. The cool glass reminded Sam of Dean, how he would constantly be asking Sam to hand him a bottle of beer with that stupid perfect smirk of his. Sam smiled and chuckled, straightening up and looked out the window.

There was a full Moon tonight, perfectly round and throwing everything into an eerily pale world. Sam looked out the window at the Moon and put a hand on the window. "Dea…"


	2. Chapter 2

It had been three weeks since Dean had last heard from his father, and he was getting worried. John had never been in the dark this long without at least a text from him. dean knew how obsessive his father could be, he just wished that the man would pick up his phone once in a while.

The same message Dean had been hearing for the last few weeks came on. _This is John, leave a message_. "Yeah, here's a message," Dean said, slamming his phone shut, "Answer you friggin' phone!"

Dean had given up waiting on John and told him that he was going to get Sam from Stanford. He told his father that he needed Sam for this case he was working, but in actual fact, he just really missed his brother. the last year had be tough without Sam to harp on. Dean was constantly being nagged by his father and every case they had worked always left John in a drunken haze, passed out on their motel bed while Dean had to finish the case by himself.

He passed the California state line, the Impala's lights illuminating the sign of the Sunshine State. Dean huffed out a breath, thinking back to when Sam was sixteen and he had begged their father to take a break and go to California to enjoy the summer, but John wouldn't listen to him. instead he made Sam work a werewolf case by himself and it had almost gotten him killed. Dean of course had to tend to Sam's wounds, all the time throwing John dark looks and whispering quietly to Sam that everything would be fine.

Sam couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen. He had woken from yet another nightmare that just seemed too real to be a dream. He couldn't shake the image of Jess pinned to the ceiling of their bedroom, bathed in flames. He knew that it was how his mother had died, but seeing Jess up there made him want to throw up.

He had gotten up and stumbled into the bathroom to was his face and as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he realized that something was about to change. Something that would change his life forever. And he knew it wasn't Jess.

Sam went back into the bedroom and lay down. Jess had told him that she would be late, but this was just ridiculous. It was nearly four a.m. and she still wasn't home. He scrubbed his hand across his face and looked up at the ceiling. He nearly had a heart attack.

There was Jess, pinned to the ceiling, just like he had seen so many times. She had a look of surprise on her face and her hair was strewn around her, all up on the ceiling. "Jess!" Sam shouted.

Flames burst from her body and started to engulf the ceiling. As quickly as the fire began, it spread, licking its way down the walls, setting everything ablaze. Sam was trapped in the middle of it. Half from shock and half from the fact that the doors were currently turning into firewood.

Suddenly, the door of his bedroom sprung open and for a moment, Sam couldn't believe his eyes. There was Dean, standing in the doorway, not caring that there were flames threatening to take his life. He ran over to Sam and took his brother's shoulders into his hand and shook his brother a little.

"Sam, Sammy, hey," Dean said, "Sammy, snap out of it!"

Slowly he saw Sam return and blink at him. "D-Dean…?" he said, looking up at his brother. "Yeah, Sam, it's Dean," he said, giving Sam his hundred watt smile, "Let's continue this when we're not gonna be roasted alive, huh?"

He hauled Sam to his feet and put Sam's arm over his shoulder. He knew Sam had inhaled a lot of smoke, which made him disorientated.

Getting out of the apartment just in time to the front lawn, the whole place exploded, setting the floor ablaze and in the distance, they could hear the sound of sirens approaching.

Dean set Sam down on the Impala hood and took Sam's face into his hands. He made his brother look up at him. "Sam, hey, I need you to open your eyes and focus on me. Sam? Sammy, c'mon, can you open your eyes for me?" Dean said, bringing one hand around Sam's head and stroking his hair a little.

Sam opened his eyes slowly, eyes stinging a little and looked at Dean. He took a few minutes to focus, but in the end, he managed a smile at his brother.

"Hey, Dea…" Sam said and put his head on Dean's chest and put his arms around his waist, inhaling his scent. The musk, gunpowder and just Dean soaking through the smell of burnt wood and ash.

Dean sighed and buried his nose in Sam's hair, smelling his shampoo mixed with a slight burnt after-smell. He wrapped his arms around his brother's shoulder's. "Hiya, Sammy."


End file.
